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In his flame-colored mantle that draped heavily around him, Edward exuded a newfound liveliness, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere of the room. His eyes gleamed with an intensity that seemed almost unnatural.
“Seems like a merry night,” he remarked, his gaze sweeping across the gathered group. “Shall I entertain with a tune or a song?” His eyes locked onto Jacobea, who responded hastily, sensing the tension in the air.
“Surely, with this oppressive heat tonight,” she replied.
Edward’s laughter filled the room, catching Thomas off guard with the sudden shift in demeanor. Leaning against the wall, he observed the silent faces around him with an air of amusement.
“I’m quite the musician,” he boasted with a smile.
Jacobea retrieved an instrument from the window-seat cushions—a red, heart-shaped body with three strings on a long neck. “Can you handle this?” she asked, a hint of apprehension in her voice.
“Aye,” Edward confidently replied, taking the instrument. “I’ll serenade you with a fine tune.”
Thomas, usually adept with music, was surprised by Edward’s hidden talent. Yet, a sense of helplessness gripped him, as if an invisible force held him captive in this eerie setting.
With the instrument in hand, Edward began to play, the melody harsh and mocking. As he sang softly, his shadow cast a looming figure on the wall, the tapestry’s deep hues accentuating his flamboyant attire and pale complexion.
The nonsensical lyrics flowed from his lips, captivating the listeners who sat in stillness. Sybilla resumed her sewing, her movements rhythmic against the eerie melody.
Thomas couldn’t bear the oppressive atmosphere any longer, his disdain growing for the place and its occupants. Edward’s rhymes, though seemingly innocent, carried an unsettling undertone.
Jacobea, perturbed, released the cat from the cushions and stood, a forced smile on her lips. “Is that the song of a foolish lady?” she inquired.
“Aye, and if she had offered her love, it might not have been spurned,” Edward replied, his bow slicing across the strings.
“Do you truly believe that?” Jacobea’s voice quivered.
“Well, she was wealthy, fair, and young,” Edward mused. “Had she not been so foolish, she could have been his second wife.”
Thomas watched Jacobea’s bewildered expression, sensing her inner turmoil. Sybilla’s comment about the first wife added to the tension, but Edward continued, unfazed by the discomfort he stirred.
“The tale is an old one,” Edward concluded. “If only she had confessed her love, perhaps the squire would have been free to love her in return.”
As Jacobea bid the others good night, a weariness settled over the room, casting an eerie pallor upon the dimly lit hall. Sybilla’s movements were deliberate as she rose, her eyes reflecting a mix of weariness and unease.
“To-morrow I’ll see you off, gentlemen,” Jacobea spoke softly, her gaze shifting between Thomas and Edward. She moved towards the door, Edward holding it open for her, their eyes briefly meeting before she looked away, a blush tingeing her cheeks.
Sybilla glanced at the sand clock, signaling the lateness of the hour. She linked arms with Jacobea, a subtle smile directed at Thomas, before they ascended the stairs, their steps echoing faintly in the quiet hall. The little cat trailed after them, its presence adding to the eerie atmosphere.
Sebastian retrieved the red silk lily, the candles flickering as if straining against the encroaching darkness. “You know your room,” he told Edward, keys jangling in his hand. “I’ll be here in the morning. Good night.”
Thomas bid them good night heavily, his mind swirling with questions and unease. Edward, still holding his instrument, lounged in the window-seat, a mocking smile playing on his lips.
Sebastian left without looking back, the door closing behind him with a resounding thud. Alone in the shadowy hall, Edward’s demeanor turned cynical. “Is there no one to guide us?” he taunted, his tone dripping with disdain.
Thomas paced, his agitation palpable. “What was that song about?” he demanded. “What’s wrong with this place and these people? She didn’t even look at me.”
Edward toyed with the instrument, emitting eerie sounds. “She’s pretty, your chatelaine,” he remarked, his gaze piercing through the darkness. “You might find yourself falling for her.”
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Thomas bristled. “You mock me because she’s a noblewoman,” he retorted. “I don’t love her, but...”
“But what?” Edward prodded.
“If our powers could sway her to me,” Thomas hesitated, his thoughts racing.
“You’ll never have her,” Edward snapped, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
Frustrated, Thomas confronted him. “Who’s to say? I’ll use any means necessary.”
“Even dark ones?” Edward challenged, rising to his feet.
“I’ve cast aside my doubts,” Thomas declared, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’ll do anything to win her.”
Edward’s smile turned sinister. “You’re changed tonight.”
Thomas shot him a glare. “I need rest.”
“The chamber’s ready upstairs,” Edward informed coldly. “I’ll stay here.”
“Why?” Thomas pressed, unsettled by Edward’s demeanor.
Edward’s smile widened, devoid of warmth.
As Thomas retired to his chamber, leaving Edward alone in the dimly lit hall, a transformation overtook Edward’s demeanor. His proud countenance twisted with agony and desperation, his hands clenched as he paced in turmoil. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows, and the incessant rain outside added to the eerie ambiance.
“I’ll thwart him,” Edward muttered, his voice steady but filled with determination, as if addressing an unseen entity. “You’ll see to it. Haven’t I served you faithfully since I left the monastery? Haven’t you promised me great power, whispered secrets of forbidden knowledge?”
He turned, as though confronting an invisible presence, his eyes darting around as if following some ethereal figure. “I’ll ensure he fails. Did you send me here for this purpose? They seem aware of your influence tonight—hush! Someone approaches.”
Edward pressed against the wall, signaling silence, his gaze fixed on the door at the far end of the hall. As it creaked open, Sebastian entered cautiously, holding a small lamp that illuminated his dark features and pink attire. His eyes met Edward’s, a hint of anticipation in his gaze.
“You’re still awake?” Sebastian remarked, his tone layered with curiosity and excitement. “You sought me out. Why?”
Edward leaned casually, masking his inner turmoil. “I couldn’t sleep. Your words have troubled me. Who are you? What did you mean?”
Sebastian loosened his attire, his unease palpable. “Tonight feels different, as if stirred by your words,” he confessed. “Who are you truly?”
Edward maintained his enigmatic smile. “Just a student from Basle college. And you know what I meant.”
Sebastian’s expression shifted, a mix of disbelief and realization crossing his face. “God! How could you know—even if it’s true? But perhaps there’s sense in it—she’s shown me favor.”
Edward’s smile deepened. “Imagine the possibilities. A wealthy lady, her husband a nobleman.”
Sebastian’s mind raced, grappling with newfound thoughts. “You’ve planted seeds of doubt in me! I talk foolishly to a stranger, yet your words linger.”
Edward’s laughter filled the room. “Consider your mistress. Watch her closely.”
Sebastian’s voice quivered. “I have a wife.”
Edward’s demeanor turned cryptic. “But will she live forever?”
Sebastian recoiled, a sudden dread gripping him. “There’s sorcery in this—your words...”
“Remember them well,” Edward urged, his tone cryptic. “You’ll hear no more from me.”
Sebastian stood bewildered, as if awakening from a spell. “I feel I’ve lost my senses tonight. I don’t know why I came here or what these thoughts mean.”
Edward’s smile held a hint of mischief. “Perhaps fate will bring us together in Frankfort, sir steward.”
Sebastian grasped Edward’s words eagerly. “I’ll be there—with my lady—” His voice trailed off.
“As for me,” Edward replied, “I don’t yet know where I’ll reside or what name I’ll take. But you—should I need to find you, it will be at the Emperor’s court?”
“Sure,” Sebastian said reluctantly. “But what business would you have with me?”
“Maybe it’ll be you needing me,” Edward grinned. “After all, I’ve planted thoughts in your head tonight that you won’t easily shake.”
Sebastian turned quickly, snatching the lamp. “I’ll see you before you leave,” he whispered, fear etched on his face. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
Filled with dread and a sense of self-loathing, Sebastian hurriedly left through the door he had entered. Edward, tingling with excitement, noticed the dimming candles and the eerie atmosphere of the hall. He approached the window, the rain now ceased, and the night enveloped in a stifling darkness.
Closing the window, Edward reclined on the cushions, thoughts consumed by Jacobea. Her image dominated his mind, overshadowing the events of the day—his time in the library, the eerie fire, the frantic flight to the castle. To him, she was a captivating enigma, her essence akin to a delicate ivory pyx filled with crimson blooms—guarded secrets and fervent emotions.
His plan crystallized—to unravel her secrets, to destroy her soul as retribution for her interference with Thomas, not out of hatred for her beauty or presence. “She’s so beautiful,” he murmured, a hint of tenderness in his voice.
As the last candle flickered and died, Edward lay in the darkness, envisioning Jacobea in her bed, her hair flowing freely. A longing stirred within him, a desire to hold her, to share laughter and intimacy. He saw her as a creature worthy of love, even as his intentions darkened with thoughts of manipulation and destruction.
The force that had brought Edward here tonight made it clear: if he didn’t seize the opportunity to destroy her, she’d forever have Thomas. He had initiated the game, seeing the beginning of the end in Sebastian’s dark visage.
But as he thought of her, tears welled up. He wept wearily, face buried in the cushion, thinking of her long, soft yellow hair soon to be tarnished in despair. Mocking himself for his tears, he fell asleep, only to wake to the sound of his name echoing.
Sitting up, Edward saw Thomas, pale and fully dressed, urging him to leave. Edward, struck by Thomas’s beauty in the dawn light, remained silent, impressed by his friend’s wild yet pained expression.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Thomas confessed. “I don’t want to see them—her—again, not like this. Get up, Edward. Why didn’t you come to bed? I needed your company—things were haunting me.”
“Her face, mostly?” Edward whispered.
“Aye, mostly her face,” Thomas replied solemnly.
Edward considered the open castle and the lurking servants. “Let’s go,” he agreed, regretting only that he wouldn’t see her delicate face and golden hair again.
As they readied to depart, a rush of emotion overcame Edward. Despite everything, nothing stood between him and Thomas. They were to face whatever lay ahead together, alone.